Hypno Harem (8 page)

The next day he carefully re-read the last part of Popper’s book, which was devoted to his personal experiences with what he called “transcranial influence” and what Woody called “brain hacking.”

Hours later, he dejectedly laid the book aside. A year ago, in their first conversation on the subject, Popper had told him that no one could fully control someone else’s mind. That was too complicated, too immense an undertaking. The best you could hope for was to control selected thoughts, which could precipitate other thoughts that would influence the mind in the direction you wanted.

Woody realized now that in messing with Emma’s mind, he’d also awakened something that resisted control. At the moment, the little monster was small but that didn’t mean it couldn’t get bigger – or that the object of its malice wouldn’t expand to others, like
him
.

The past week he’d been priding himself as the secret successor to the great Dr. Otto Popper. Now he felt more like the successor to Dr. Victor Frankenstein, another maker of monsters.

How to control the creature?
Could
he control it? And how much time did he have before he ran
out
of time?

A
s Dr.
Crockett had promised, a few weeks later Woody was able to pick up his diploma at the Neuroscience Department’s main office. It looked like a thousand other doctoral diplomas, or at least it did to everyone but himself. This was his ticket to a professorship at a prestigious university, to grant money for research, to fellowship money for a book. His career was launched!

He had it framed and took it over to Candi’s so she could admire it. That night, they played Risk with Tiff and Sandra. Woody was well on his way to world domination when his phone rang. It was Crockett, who apologized for calling late.

“Not at all, sir,” said Woody politely. “How can I help you?”

“I need to talk with you.”

“All right. When?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, right now. I’m in my office. Can you come over?”

“I guess so. What’s this about, Dr. Crockett?”

“
Hroomph
, it’s a confidential matter. I’ll tell you when you get here.”

Woody apologized to the girls and said he’d be back as soon as possible. They all wanted to know what was going on, particularly Candi, but he could only shrug. “Guess I’ll find out.”

H
alf
an hour later, Woody parked in a lot near the Neuroscience Building. As he crossed the street, a car drove past and he thought the driver resembled Becky, though what she would be doing on campus at this time of night was a mystery.

The light was on in Dr. Crockett’s office. He knocked and Crockett opened the door. He shook Woody’s hand with a grave countenance. Instead of inviting him inside, he came out and gestured to the elevator. “We’re going upstairs.”

“Upstairs?”

“Yes. The others are waiting for us in the faculty conference room.”

“What others?”

The others turned out to be the other two members of the Doctoral Review Committee, Dr. Upland and Dr. Yin. There was also Captain McGaw, chief of the campus police, and a woman with a tape recorder. McGaw was a stocky man in early middle age with a haircut and crisp manner that suggested a military background.

Woody shook hands with everyone and they all sat. “
Hroomph,”
said Crockett. “I should tell you that this meeting will be recorded. You have the right to refuse, of course.”

“No, if you want to record, I don’t mind. What in the world is going on, Dr. Crockett?”

“This isn’t a formal interrogation,” said Captain McGaw, “but you also have the right to a lawyer.”

“I don’t need a lawyer,” Woody said stoutly. “Will someone tell me this is about?”

“Dr. Starke has made some very grave accusations against you, Dr. Goodman,” McGaw said sternly. “We need to hear your side of the story.”

“She has? What sort of accusations?”

“She said you raped her.” said McGaw.

“She said
what?
”

“She also said you blackmailed her into approving your dissertation.”

“Blackmail! What else did she say?”

“Quite a bit but I’d like your response to those allegations first.”

“They’re absurd. I had no sexual interest in Dr. Starke and even if I had, I would have never raped her. If you’ll do a background check on me, you’ll see that I’ve never been accused of any kind of sexual misconduct.”

“We have already. You’re seeing Dr. Starke’s daughter, correct?”

“Yes, but that has nothing to do with my dissertation.”

“What about the blackmail charge?”

“Just as absurd. Did she say
how
I blackmailed her?”

“No, she didn’t. She just said you did.”

“Did she say when and where I raped her?”

“On that, she was more specific. She said you raped her on the desk in her office Friday evening last month. She said you tied her up.”

“Tied her up? Tied her up in her office? Anything else?”

“Yes, she said you locked a dog collar on her and called her your bitch. She said she had to wear it for three weeks, until you had your diploma in hand.”

“Well, if she had to wear a dog collar, why is it nobody noticed?”

“She said at your instruction, she always wore a scarf or turtleneck.”

“As a matter, of fact,” said Dr. Yin, who until now had said little, “there was a period, about three weeks, when every time I saw Dr. Starke, she did have something around her neck.”

“And that proves she had on a dog collar?” said Woody. “Come now, Dr. Yin.”

“No, I’m not saying it does. Just that she might have been.”

Woody rolled his eyes. “Gentlemen, this is just
wild!
If I attacked Dr. Starke in her office, why didn’t she scream?”

“She said you gagged her,” said McGaw.

“Even so. Unless I had a gun on her—
Did
I have a gun on her?”

“She didn’t mention that.”

“Unless I had a gun on her, her secretary… I don’t remember her name.”

“Becky Olsen.”

“Yes, Becky. She would have heard the commotion. Have you talked to her?”

“Yes, we have.”

“And what did she say?”

“Before I tell you that, Dr. Goodman, I want to know about your relationship with the late Dr. Popper.”

“Otto Popper was a fine old man. He thought I had promise and gave me a lot of time and attention. Also he was lonely, away from Austria and his family and friends. I think I was sort of like a grandson to him.”

“Did he teach you anything about… uh, mind control?”

“Mind control! God, no. There’s no such thing and he would have been the first to say so. Why do you bring that up?”

“Dr. Starke said that he taught you how to control people’s minds, make them do your bidding.”

“Oh, now of all the things she claims, that is the most ridiculous, straight out of  a bad movie.”

“She said you controlled
her
mind. And Becky’s. And she thinks you’re controlling her daughter’s.”

“How?”

“She didn’t know how you did it. She just said you did.”

“Captain, with all respect, I can’t believe you’re taking these charges seriously. It sounds to me like Dr. Starke has had some kind of breakdown. It’s no secret that the two of us clashed on my work. It’s also no secret that she had an animosity to Dr. Popper. She finally came around on my dissertation, much to my relief and gratitude, but I’ll be honest, she was cool to my dating Candi.”

“So you don’t practice mind reading and mind control?”

“Of course not. The two are impossible. Mind reading is a stage trick, well documented. As to mind control, any clinical hypnotist would tell you that the mind is suggestible not controllable. If I really
could
control Dr. Starke’s mind, how is that she’s made all these charges?”

“A good question, Dr. Goodman,” said the policeman. He looked around the room. “Does anyone else have any questions?”

They shook their heads. Captain McGaw signaled the tape recorder to be shut off. 

“
Hroomph,”
said Crockett. “I apologize for dragging you here at this time of night. You understand that we had to question you about this.”

“I guess I do, but like I said, it’s wild. I mean, if Dr. Starke said I’d talked dirty or made threats, that would at least be possible, but to rape her with her secretary present and to control her mind? And why would I tie her up if I could control her mind?”

“A very sad business,” said Dr. Crockett. “No question that she’s had some kind of breakdown. The Doctoral Review Committee met earlier today and she seemed perfectly rational until she suddenly stood up and announced you had raped her.”

“Just like that?”

“Completely out of nowhere,” said Dr. Upland. “She went on ranting for about ten minutes and then stormed out.”

“We were all shocked,” said Dr. Yin. “I don’t always agree with Emma but she has a fine mind and a great deal of poise. It was…”

“Scary,” said Upland.

“Yes, scary. Very.”

“She must be under stress,” said Woody. “Maybe all she needs is some time off.”

“We talked it over and agreed on that,” said Crockett. “About an hour later, I went to her office to suggest that she take a sabbatical. I told her the three of us could run the graduate program while she was away.”

“And what did she say to that?”

“She was furious, accused me of conspiring against her. She threw a book at me. I made a hasty retreat. Her secretary came to my office later, in tears. She said Dr. Starke was behaving like a madwoman, had made terrible allegations to her.”

“The rape?”

“Yes. Becky came here earlier this evening. Of course she said nothing like that happened, not in her presence.”

“This is terrible. The woman needs treatment.”

“Clearly. The state she’s in right now, she might do herself some real harm. We’ll have to give her a leave of absence until she recovers. We’re trying to keep this whole thing quiet. I hope I can count on your cooperation?”

“Of course, though I should tell Candi.”

“Certainly. Candice is our best hope of helping Emma. Have her get in touch with me. A sad business, this.”

“Sad,” said Upland.

“Very,” said Yin.

Woody rose. Captain McGaw held out his hand. “Sorry to be curt with you earlier. Just doing my job.”

“I understand, sir.”

McGaw gave him a card. “Call me if she contacts you, will you?”

“Sure, but I’m probably the last person she’s going to be in touch with.”

“Well, you never know.”

T
iff
and Sandra had gone out by the time Woody got back. He told Candi about his interview with Dr. Crockett and the others. She was predictably distraught. “This is awful, Woody! She really said all those things?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“I don’t know what’s the matter with Mom but she needs help.”

“I hope you can convince her to get it. Do you want to call her now?”

“No. I’ll go over to her place. It’s better if we talk face to face.”

“Good idea. In that case, I’ll go on home. Call me afterwards, okay?”

Woody’s apartment was on the second floor of a small complex mostly occupied by Templeton students. It was small and spare but suited his needs. He let himself in and reached for the light switch. There was a blur of motion to his right and then a terrible shock ran through his body.

He fell to the floor, disoriented and unable to move. He felt hands grip his legs as he was dragged across the room. “Taser,” said Emma Starke’s voice. “Just as useful to attack as defend. You’ll be able to move in a few minutes. By then it’ll be too late.”

She lifted him up and positioned him in a straightback chair. As she said, in a few minutes he’d regained control of his body but by then he was securely roped to the chair, gagged with a washcloth and duct tape. Emma stepped back to admire her handiwork. She reached into a laundry bag and pulled out a football helmet, which she placed on his head.

She tightened the helmet’s straps. “If you’re thinking of getting out of this by controlling my mind, well, think again! This will keep all your nasty thoughts in your own nasty little skull!”

Woody stared groggily at the woman. “You want to know how I got in, I suppose,” she chuckled. “I told the apartment manager I was your mother. Said you’d been in a traffic accident and were in the hospital for observation. You’d asked me to bring you some things. She was very understanding.” Emma let out a maniacal cackle. “She asked to see my driver’s license and wanted to know why we had different last names. I told her I’d remarried. The idea of actually giving
birth
to a monster like you, it made me want to throw up!”

She bent and picked up a five gallon can of gasoline. “And now,
Dr
. Goodman, you’ve come to the end of your sick power-mad dream. In a few minutes, you’ll be burned to a crisp. And then you’ll be in hell, where you’ll burn for all eternity!”

Woody tried to speak but could manage no more than a muffled mumble.
“Mmmmph!”

Emma cackled again and poured gasoline around his chair, then doused the apartment. The fumes were nauseating. Woody fought to keep from throwing up. She put the can on the floor and groped in the laundry bag for a few seconds. “Damn!,” she muttered, tossing it away. “I
would
forget matches. Well, I can just set some paper on fire from your stove. That’ll work every bit as good.”

She went into the kitchen and out of Woody’s line of sight. Just then the front door opened and he saw Candi frozen in the doorway. She grasped the situation in an instant, then looked beyond him. “
Mother,
” she screamed. “No!”

She darted past Woody and he heard the two women’s voices raised in yells and shrieks, then the sounds of a brief but intense struggle, followed by a body hitting the floor.